


Your Bruised Ego is No Concern of Ours

by TheBarghestsNotebook



Series: A Depraved Sense of Loyalty [1]
Category: Star Wars, The Last Jedi
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:05:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBarghestsNotebook/pseuds/TheBarghestsNotebook
Summary: The reader managed to get on Kylo Ren's bad side for all of the Finalizer to watch. They don't seem too concerned.





	1. Overseeing Rumors

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my OC and current RP threads that I have running around tumblr with them. This is only the beginning of this little shit.

It’s not that the Finalizer was worse off for their company, but mercenaries were not cut from the same shaft as the rest of the crew. Friendly, abet rambunctious, the crew has made itself a staple of ship life after convincing Snoke that their pay was to be half in credits and half in First Order ship technology. If it had just been the further, they would have been in and out before their Force-sensitive prisoners had met their untimely end in front of Supreme Leader Snoke. Instead, they set themselves up as a temporary facet for a few months as the technology gets integrated with their outdated systems.

And as much as he hates to admit it, General Hux found himself being less upset by it as the weeks passed by.

They did their job, tremendously so. Over eager to satisfy and run their missions faster than any other mercenary crew he or Captain Phasma had highered before. Their record of completion was almost, if not, perfect and they followed their mission to the letter. From complete secrecy, to blowing up entire city blocks, to making an entrance, to killing no one except for the target in the middle of crossfire, it was refreshing to see a crew that knew what they were doing.

And it seemed to only get better for him when he overheard the gossip from the other officers about the practice match.

Hux stood next to Captain Phasma as they waited in the lift for it to arrive. It was a quiet moment for the two, not having to deal with any of their subordinates or anyone else for that matter. Neither of them felt the need to talk to each other and neither of them felt like the silence was awkward. Anyone should rightly feel tense in their presence, but at least they didn’t have to deal with the other sweating in such close corners.

The lift doors opened and they walked into the hallway. The troopers and officers stopped and saluted them as they passed, a far too many troopers and officers. Gossip spreads quickly on military crafts, it seemed. The pair could hear the sounds of hollering from the training room. Cheers and then groans floated out in a wave. Turning a corner and the crowd of people parted. They walked forward into the large room and saw that the rumors were true.

The Echani member of the Black Whispers was walking off the mat, rolling his shoulders with a grimace on his face. It seemed that Ren had just won that match, and judging by the majority of the crew, had won all the ones before that. He raised his finger and pointed it at the only remaining mercenary member that had yet to feel his wrath.

“You, now.”

The crew member stood up as casual as you would please and walked onto the mat. Lean, vibrant and numerous tattoos, and a vibrospear resting on their shoulder. They seemed far too nonchalant to be facing the agitated and seething Knight of Ren. The man twirled his vibrosowrd and pointed it at the mercenary. He seemed to have every intention of making his aggravation known to them, and making it hurt. The mercenary, on the other hand, didn’t seemed phased by it. Instead, they almost looked delighted at the opportunity.

General Hux and Captain Phasma heard hushed bets going around between officers and Stormtroopers alike. It wasn’t uncommon, but it was striking to hear that there were enough people betting for the mercenary to win. Phasma turned to Hux slightly and under her breath, she said, “One hundred credits on the mercenary.”

“Very well,” Hux replied, turning his attention back to the two on the mat. One hundred credits was menial enough for the both of them, he could probably spend his winnings on a new toy for Millicent.


	2. Tongue in Cheek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the reader's POV

I’m not going to pretend I knew my pilot’s reasoning for things, but I trusted her enough that if she wanted First Order tech upgraded into her ship’s systems, it was probably a good idea. But, aside from that, our stay on the Finalizer seemed more like a chaperoned date than a vacation. We had guards with us any time we were not on our ship and we had to be escorted anywhere outside of the hanger. It was an annoyance, to say the least. But that didn’t mean we didn’t sneak off from time to time. Let’s face it, when your band of mercenaries is more rogue than berserker, it happens.

If they really wanted us to stay out of places, they would have better security. And if they really really wanted us to stay out of places, they would have stopped letting us on the ship all together. But, at this point, neither option seemed to have been put into effect. Maybe it’s because our chaperones were the ones getting into trouble instead of us because we weren’t actually doing anything. As far as anyone in charge knew, anyway. But if they really wanted to keep us out of places we don’t belong they should have just kept us busy.

With anything.

Literally anything. Unnecessary paperwork, running errands, picking up supplies, making coffee, cleaning, filing reports. Anything that made us feel like we were doing something. We were a bunch of overachievers so not doing anything while still earning a paycheck was stifling. There was only so much of the ship we could explore and only so many people to poke and prod at in the break rooms.

And there’s only so many people who have a very short limit to being poked and prodded that it makes it much more fun to go over that limit. Kylo Ren, for example, was one of the ones who had a short limit and damn did I cross it within five minutes of being in the same room as him. It was worth the Force Choke, and it was definitely going to be worth the sparring match he inserted himself into.

He had worked his way through the rest of my crew and he had just pointed the finger at me. Make me watch my comrades fall and then try to take me out too. It was a dominating tactic for sure, but it wasn’t going to work.

Especially not with me.

I rolled my necking, making sure that it gave a satisfactory crack because I always love the flair of the dramatic. Gotta do something in response to Kylo’s little leg kick that he does. I spun my vibrospear around for a bit, pretending to get the feel of it while really just showing off to the crowd. And it seemed to be working as well as it could have, I got enough amusement out of everyone who hadn’t fallen silent at this point. Because Kylo was staring me down with daggers and was making it very clear that I had only a few seconds to get myself together and get prepared to get my ass kicked. The wink I gave him started the fight in a way he didn’t want, but a way he jumped on because damn, that man was fast.

But not fast enough.

Kylo Ren had strong strikes, using the weight of the vibroblade to his advantage, momentum for extra speed, all that good stuff. Made blocking a lot harder than I wanted it to be, so there goes my usual strategy of tanking every blow because I can. Instead I had to parry and dodge, but you know what, it wasn’t that bad because parrying meant I could just shove Kylo’s ego up his ass while none of his strikes did any sort of damage that he wanted them do. Got used to dealing with guards that had the same fighting style as he did. Got used to dealing with troopers who all had the same fighting style. Got used to dealing with officers who were too afraid of him to give it their all. Got used to the same damn thing and now he had to remember that not everyone was going to cower in front of the big bad Kylo Ren.

I sent his attacks off to the sides, forced him to rethink how hard he hit because he was getting so tired of me smacking him in the back of the head as we passed each other. Grunts and angry shouts from him and bated breath from everyone around us. It was...far too tense for my liking. It was almost as if this was supposed to be my final battle. I mean, maybe, but I was going to make it one hell of a fight.

I launched myself forward, going on the offensive for the first time in the match. My vibrospear spun around me as I kept it moving. I went for slices first, see how tries to redirect me or dodge. He seemed to take it just like I did, but had an easier time because I wasn’t going for hard, I was going for fast. But it didn’t seem like he could keep up with me. I slashed and twirled, distracting him and then striking. I forced us into circles, not a line like he seemed to like, but a weaving series of patterns to keep us always moving, never knowing what direction we would head next. In and out, side to side, never move in a straight line because that’s how you get hit. I kept my body to the side to give him as little target as possible and he kept himself wide open. A stark contrast in styles and neither of us had gotten the edge yet.

Everyone was waiting with bated breath because it could be anyone’s match at this point. We were both in our element but we were both starting to breath hard. Fighting always seemed to last longer than it actually did, seconds could feel like minutes. But this, with this we were going for minutes. We were going for a while. You want fights to end within thirty seconds, but not us. Not this time. Neither one of us were going to back down.

And then I didn’t take the blow well enough during a block and Ren’s sword came down on my spear, breaking it in half.

I leapt back to keep myself from being hit. There was an audible intake of breath from the audience around us. It had grown since we started. They were already shuffling to pass around credits. Ren looked at me with an arrogant smirk and said, “I win.”

But I wasn’t having that. I brought the two pieces of the spear up and got back into a stance, “I don’t think so. I haven’t gone down yet.”

“You don’t have a weapon, you will lose.”

“And give up a chance at beating me senseless? Really, Ren, I thought you were going to be more of a threat.”

That got him. No one seemed to give him any sort of lip on this ship and it was far too easy to rile him up. Anger, pride, frustration, a need to keep up appearances, whatever it was, I goaded it out quick enough. He was already annoyed with me, already riled up. He dealt with most problems by smashing them, so why not smash me?

He let out a howl of rage and launched himself forward, going to for a deep and hard strike. Ren wanted to break me, send me to the medbay with bruises and coughing up blood. He wanted to make me regret this match for years.

And that’s why I tossed my broken weapon to the side and followed his blade down. Giving myself just enough of a lead, I ducked and went right for his waist, tackling him to the ground. My stance was strong enough that I knocked the wind out of him as we went down. I slammed him onto the mat and he gasped for nonexistent air. My knuckles went right for his dominant shoulder and I made him let go of that blade with a good hard hit. My next hit with down hard on the open spot right next to his head. The sound alone let everyone know that I would have knocked him out cold if I had decided to land it.

Standing up, I turned on my heel and walked off the mat. He wouldn’t be able to retaliate fast enough, not when he had to try to get air back into those lungs of his. No one knew how to react to seeing one of their leaders being brought down by an outsider before. A mercenary beat a Knight of Ren? Insane. But it had happened right in front of them. And I knew that credits would find their way into the right hands at some point over the next few hours. Joining my crew, they were the only ones making any noise. Laughing and hollering, clapping me on the back with congratulations.

I snuck a glance over to where the good general and the good captain were standing. General Hux and I locked gazes.

And I swear he smiled.


End file.
